


Empirical Proof

by NairobiWonders



Series: Take me to the river [2]
Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Joanlock - Freeform, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 16:29:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8217091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NairobiWonders/pseuds/NairobiWonders
Summary: This is part two to "All the Troubles that you Put Me Through." It's fluff. There may be more.





	1. Chapter 1

Sherlock woke up naked in the back seat of a car with a pounding headache and an almost naked woman wrapped around him... not the first time... 

Drawing watery blanks as to how he came to be here this time, he blinked away the haze and shuffled through the facts he could remember. Answers were not immediately forthcoming ... where exactly was he? had he relapsed? why was he naked? why was Watson ... Watson! The previous day's events rushed back to him in whole. 

Hypothermia. He'd been foolish and she once more saved him. 

He peered down at the top of her head. She slept upon his chest. He could feel her fingers lightly resting at his waist, her leg curled around his, and what might be a small pool of drool upon his chest. He closed his eyes in content amusement - Watson was a sound sleeper. 

Sherlock wiggled his toes and then his fingers, discreetly making sure his body was in working order without disturbing his companion. Other than the headache, he appeared to have suffered no residual effects. As to Watson, her body temperature felt appropriate, her heart rate and breathing even and steady and she showed no signs of physical distress. On the contrary, she was quite comfortable, as, much to his surprise, was he. 

He moved the blanket a little higher to cover Watson's neck. She stirred. Lifting her head slightly she wiped at her mouth and at his chest and then snuggled back down, her fingers gently stroking his chest before falling back to sleep. Sherlock's arms cradled her protectively. He had once posed the question, seeking intellectual justification for the existence and the necessity of the emotion. He now had empirical evidence. The question was answered. The answer lay in his arms. 

It was still dark outside, they were warm and reasonably safe. More sleep would do them both some good. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The weak grey light of morning filtered in through the car's fogged windows. Joan awoke with a guilty start. She'd fallen asleep. Rather than monitoring Sherlock's vitals, she'd fallen asleep. She chided herself. Joan lifted her body from his, balancing on an elbow, as she brought her fingers to his neck to check his pulse.

"I'm fine, Watson. Everything is in working order. You need not worry." 

Joan looked up to see his grey eyes open and that supercilious expression on his face - the one that she normally found an irritant but at this moment happily welcomed. She had her Sherlock back.

She sighed and happily plopped back down on top of him.

"Umphhh..." Sherlock grunted. "Parts of me are a little more exposed than usual at the moment."

She smiled into his neck, "Sorry." Her arm wrapped around under his and hung on. "I'm just happy to have you back."

Sherlock carefully readjusted the blanket over them. "Glad to be back."

A moment of silence passed between them. Dawn was breaking outside the vehicle and the caw of a crow welcoming the morning pierced the quiet.

"Thank you, Watson." His voice was soft but steady. 

"You would have done the same for me," she snuggled closer into the warm crook of his neck.

"Yes, but you would have never been as foolhardy as I."

"True." She lifted her face to his, a broad smile taunted him and faded as she continued speaking. "You really scared me ... I thought ..." Joan stopped talking, unable to finish the thought; the fear still too fresh to express. 

His hand appeared from beneath the blanket, fingers gently touched her face. "We'll wait until the sun is fully up and then walk out up to the main road." Sherlock's words were practical but his tone was not. He tucked a strand of her hair carefully behind her ear. "It won't take long, the road is clearly marked ..."

Not really listening to his words she nodded her agreement and drew a little closer. He continued talking, outlining probability of cell service, the volume of traffic to be expected once they made it to the road, estimated temperatures ... He wasn't listening to himself either. His eyes, half-lidded, darted to her mouth and then back to her eyes. 

Joan's face lowered to his, her cheek pressed against his stubbly cheek. His eyes slowly closed with the caress. "I'm sorry I put you through this," he whispered. 

Her warm breath at his ear was her response. They lay close, cheek to cheek, drawing comfort from each other, from the moment shared, bare of artifice ... at peace ... until the loud wrap of knuckles upon the car's window startled them apart. 

"Who is that?" Joan squinted. Sherlock wiped away a swatch of foggy moisture from the window. Joan moved behind Sherlock, suddenly aware of her unclothed state. 

A uniformed state trooper stared back at them; behind the trooper stood Detective Bell.


End file.
